


ne me quitte pas

by janewaymills



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janewaymills/pseuds/janewaymills
Summary: "New life, she thought, and her fingers gently searched for and found Eve’s hand. Neither moved, neither spoke as the single thought on both minds seemed to fill the room: What am I going to do about you?"





	1. Oksana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stabby thing did not happen in my version of the last few moments of the finale and what happens after.

Oksana breathed deeply as sat down at the edge of the bed. Her apartment was trashed, her life equally so. _But when had it been different?_   She thought. She might have laughed at the mess if some feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn't attempting to make its way out as well. Not fear, never fear... No, she couldn't, or wouldn't, name it in her own mind, but still it made her grateful for the lingering pain of her external wounds.

When she laid down beside Eve, she could sense her body tense and then relax. The dark curly hair in her periphery let her imagine for a moment she was next to Anna again. _Just a moment._ The sight of the woman after so many years had jolted her--initially, at least. It was less that Anna continued to have the same hold on her, though it had taken many nights of loneliness and anger to really let go, and more the realization that she was being confronted with the living memory of a completely different version of herself.

She was no longer that girl, no longer bound by another's gaze or wavering desire. She was no "lovesick puppy" (as Konstantin had called her upon their first meeting). She was a master at her craft, that could not be denied, and since the start of her new life she had prided herself on one thing: no matter what happened, she could survive. She was in control. Those instincts were telling her to take control now: to straddle Eve, to kiss her with all the fury and hunger that had led them both to this point. She craved to own some part of the woman, whatever it was she kept coming back to. Unlike with Anna, she knew Eve held a darker center, perhaps even one to match hers.

“You found me,” Oksana said. There was a pause. She listened to Eve’s steady breathing, felt the closeness of their bodies. “Will you stay with me for a bit?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Eve replied. “For a bit.” Oksana nodded. She understood, and couldn’t help but find some enjoyment in, the chaos she had left in her wake. Of course, that meant there was much to be done to tie things back up again--if that was possible. So many threads had been cut in the past few weeks, she wondered what could be salvaged. It was time to shed this version of herself. _New life,_ she thought, and her fingers gently searched for and found Eve’s hand. Neither moved, neither spoke as the single thought on both minds seemed to fill the room: _What am I going to do about you?_


	2. Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "didn’t the night end,  
> didn’t the melting ice  
> flood the narrow gutters
> 
> wasn’t my body  
> rescued, wasn’t it safe
> 
> didn’t the scar form, invisible  
> above the injury"
> 
> \-- october (louise gluck)

Eve awoke slowly, her sore muscles begging her to stay in the curled up position she had managed to put herself in while asleep. The still atmosphere and sounds of muffled life outside made the apartment appear separate, cut-off, from the real world. 

“Oksana?” Her voice echoed despite the hesitant tone. As she stumbled through the dark to the open area apart from the bedroom, her mind fought with itself. She might as well have been doing a mental version of, “She loves me, she loves me not.” Instead, though, it was: “She’s gone, she’ll come back, she’s gone, she’ll come back.” The deep ache in her chest and the empty rooms both confirmed to her what seemed like an inevitable event: the woman she’d burned all her bridges for had left her alone with the ashes. Even in that moment, she scolded herself. _What did you expect? I mean, really? Run off with her? Good god, she’s an assassin! Is she gonna get some 9 to 5 job and start over with you?_

Start over. Eve sighed and leaned against the archway. Start over -- without Niko. His family had taken her in when they married, declared her one of their own. Somehow the reality of that loss hit harder than the prospect of losing the man she’d been with for years. The fact that she knew he _would_ take her back if she really wanted it just made things worse. She recalled the fight they'd had: the intensity of all that she'd hidden from him coming to the surface at once, how it had made her shake and lash out with such anger. More than anger, even... And still he would take her back and offer an olive branch in the form of a hot cup of tea.

 _I'm sorry, Niko. I can't._ A central part of her had changed -- no, had revealed itself. But where was the catalyst for that revelation? Her legs caved and she slid down to the floor.  _I hate you, I love you, I hate you, I love you._ No tears came, only the full reverberation of the quiet surrounding her. 

Walking out the apartment door, she had a momentary yearning to set the place on fire, to be literally and metaphorically done with this shit, but she noticed something on the coffee table catch the moonlight: a silver hairpin not unlike the one Oksana had used to kill the man in Tuscany. She pocketed it and left. 

* * *

 

“Would you like to sign up for courtesy overdraft service today, ma’am?” Eve looked at the elderly woman in front of her taking about 12 years to complete every small task during their short interaction.

  
“Oh, no, dear, that’s fine, thank you,” the woman responded, reaching to adjust her glasses. Eve’s thoughts drifted into familiar territory. _If I was going to kill you right now, how would I do it? Pen to the jugular? Nah...too obvious. Extra points for discretion._

It had been two months since that night. When she returned to London -- her home, her marriage, and her job either in pieces or obliterated -- she quickly went about creating a new life. The urgency of the task and its methodical nature provided her with an unexpected reprieve. Find a place to live  _(check)_ andfind a source of income  _(ugh, but, yes, check)_. Eve's reluctance to accept the highly respected position of "Teller #3" was only barely overridden by her desire to afford food and shelter, and this meant stretching her people-tolerating abilities to the edge of the friggin' emotional stratosphere. 

She hadn't heard from Carolyn or Kenny in that time, and, much to her own surprise, she hadn't kicked in Carolyn's front door in search of the truth.  _Not this bullshit convoluted tapestry of omissions and near-misses. The real fucking truth,_  she sometimes mentally argued before falling asleep around 1 or 2 each morning.Elena was the one person who'd kept at least vaguely in touch. Bill would have been right by her side. 

Her phone buzzed while she gathered her things to leave work. It was a text from Elena: "Drinks?" 

"Sure. 7?" 

"Sounds good, see you then." 

* * *

 

After getting a drink, Eve grabbed a table in the back. She was a little late _(as usual),_ but Elena hadn't shown yet and she was grateful she didn't have to fake-apologize. She looked at her phone: 7:17. She considered that Elena might have decided to leave after waiting around for 15 mins or so. She hadn't texted, though, so Eve sat and continued to drink.

At 7:35 on the dot, she received the text: "So sorry! Something came up very last-minute and I can't make it. Raincheck?" 

"Yeah, no problem," she replied. She pulled the clip out of her hair and worked her fingers through the mass of curls. Her first two drinks slowed everything down: her thoughts, both conscious and the myriad of shadows lingering beneath. Towards the end of the third, she glanced up at the bar and her breath stopped. The sight of long, honey-blonde hair entranced her.  _Similar body type, relaxed but assured stance, beautiful legs._ Eve's mind scanned the woman, whose back was facing her, with a mixture of systematic observation and pure, unrestrained need. 

She saw the body she'd memorized in a matter of seconds begin to turn...and her entire frame sank further into her chair. It wasn't her.  _Where are you, Oksana?_ Her gaze was lowered when she suddenly heard a voice close to her. 

"Hi." Eve, startled out of the fog of her disappointment, struggled to find words to respond to the same blonde woman she'd been staring at. 

"Uh, hi," she sputtered. The woman smiled, as if amused by Eve's genuine awkwardness. 

"I couldn't help but notice you and...," she smiled again, quite coyly, "I think you noticed me. Mind if I buy you one?" 

Eve pictured her empty apartment, unpacked boxes piled up like cardboard snowmen throughout. That image alone was like touching a deep bruise, and the pleasant buzz she was currently riding beckoned her with the briefest of freedom. 

"You know, I would love that," she said, motioning for the woman to take a seat at her table. 

Of course, if Eve hadn't been drinking, hadn't focused on the woman, hadn't looked down when she did, she may have noticed another woman with long, honey-blonde hair carefully making her way through the nighttime crowd.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be one torturous hiatus, so I figure I'll write my way through it. Let me know if you happen to stop by my lil angst corner and find something worthwhile here. <3
> 
> Also, I am not from the UK, so my limited knowledge will probably be apparent. Feel free to let me know if I've made a mistake!


	3. Oksana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You, Beloved, who are all  
> the gardens I have ever gazed at,  
> longing. An open window  
> in a country house--, and you almost  
> stepped out, pensive, to meet me.  
> Streets that I chanced upon,--  
> you had just walked down them and vanished.  
> And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors  
> were still dizzy with your presence and, startled,  
> gave back my too-sudden image."
> 
> \-- you who never arrived (rainer maria rilke)

"Please! I'll do anything!" The man scrambled to find an exit in the basement of the chic new downtown bar he owned. Of course, the only exit was blocked by a tall woman striding toward him in an almost casually cruel manner. Oksana pinned him to the wall, placing a blade at his throat with one smooth flick of her wrist.

"Listen...," she paused, searching her mind for the man's name, then sighed and reached into her pocket for the business card she'd been given as reference. "JAR-ED. Hm, what an ugly name." She placed her attention back on the man. "It's simple, okay. You borrow money, you pay money back. See how that works? It does not go: Borrow money, stop answering calls, still keep your shitty little bar. Got it?"

As she pressed the edge of the blade firmly against his neck, she felt the instinct rise up in her -- as it had with almost every job since she'd started. _A quick slice_ , she thought, observing the terrified look in his eyes. "I said, GOT IT, JARED?"

  
"Yes!! I swear to God I'll have the money soon!"

  
"You have 3 days." Oksana relaxed her grip on him and began to walk away. "And don't even think about leaving."

  
When she stepped out of the front door, she took the card and used a lighter to set it on fire before dropping it on the street. It burned until a breeze carried it off -- just barely leaving the faint remains of a word written on the back: _Lilith._

* * *

Hotel rooms and business cards: the last two months had been nothing but. After she'd snuck out that night, stuffing some clothing, her brown wig, and a bit of cash tucked inside a couch cushion into a bag, she headed north. She made a vague kind of peace with the fact that The 12 would probably send a barrage of assassins her way at some point, but it didn't affect her as much as it should've.

She didn't have to go far to reach a contact (and one-time fling) who'd previously tried to recruit her for an organization in competition with The 12. It was a similar setup: receive a card with the name of the target (usually their own, as the presence of one was never suspicious near the target's workplace or home), find the target, and either intimidate or kill them, depending on the desires of the client. To her great annoyance, an employee had to "work up" to the level of assassination. It made her feel like she had signed on for the 9 to 5 version of her other gig, especially when she damn well _knew_ she was better at it than some of the completed jobs she heard about while traveling to assignments. The rush of adrenaline that came with the kill was denied her, replaced by a diluted sense of too easily earned dominance. 

She had taken control elsewhere. Opening her eyes to see Eve still beside her, the same rush she craved from a kill had flooded her nerves. And still, she left. She remembered the first instant she saw Anna -- how the image of her had electrified the withering center of her young body. She'd wanted to touch Anna right then, wanted to reach inside of her and bask in the essence of her being. When Anna betrayed her, _denied what had been plainly asked for_   (in Oksana's mind, at least), she clung to the ghost of that essence even harder. She would lay back on her cot in prison and watch the flickering of the light in her cell, repeating, "Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna," at every flicker. The woman was a god to her, a holy mantra. Like any person so desperately elevated to the status of deity, though, Anna's own needs and experiences could not survive. They had to be burned and cast aside for the sake of Oksana's threadbare sanity those 5 years. 

Konstantin gave her an out and she took it like a starving child offered scraps, but he made it clear to his "lovesick puppy" that the candle lit for this woman who wanted nothing to do with her, and, in fact, thought her dead, must be extinguished. "To love is to give control to another," he stated, his tone a threat tempered by fatherly calm. "You are useless to me if you have no control." 

It was true that she continued to dream about Anna on and off. However certain she was of her new persona, her subconscious refused to be restricted. She considered it a weakness, an addiction to be kept in check...until Eve. Eve in that hospital bathroom had given her that same feeling once again, and once again, she was struck open by a single glance. The path she took from that point on toppled all that had been built, internally and externally. And she knew what Konstantin would have said to her, before he'd become a target himself. He would have shook his head and sighed: "This is what happens when you lose control." 

* * *

The name of a London-based business taunted her with its inevitability -- her newest target, another idiotic man with a potentially fatal debt. If she had really decided to move on, she would have left the country. _I just want to look at her._

Finding the woman was an effortless feat. Eve hadn't changed anything in regards to her identity, either a bold or a naive move (but that had always been part of her charm). She couldn't help but smile when she saw that Eve had relocated to a different side of the city, which likely meant Niko was out of the picture.  _A bank job? Poor baby._ The thought of having to wait on the average population in order to survive made her shudder. 

It was early evening when she finally saw Eve leave her apartment. She _ached_ to touch her. 

 _No. Only watch,_  she reminded herself, and then followed Eve, taking care to not be noticed in spite of the brunette's notorious obliviousness. When Eve walked into a local pub, Oksana stopped, slipping behind an adjacent building.  _Only watch._ She gazed in the direction of the pub for what seemed like forever. 

 _Only watch...in the pub._ She nodded at her own plan and went to the door. It didn't take long for her to zero in on Eve at a table in the back. Her eyes narrowed as a woman approached the table.  _Are you fucking kidding me??_

It made sense, someone would've made the call eventually, but it felt like a cosmic joke in the moment -- that the very contact who'd brought Oksana out of the ruins of her former life now stood before the last remaining piece of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have the next chapter outlined, so plan on another update pretty soon! 
> 
> Also, I realize that my writing tends to consist of 80% explanation of characters' feelings and 20% plot. If that's not your thing, that's fine! <3


	4. Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've wakened to your muttered words  
> spoken light- or dark-years away  
> as if my own voice had spoken.  
> But we have different voices, even in sleep,  
> and our bodies, so alike, are yet so different  
> and the past echoing through our bloodstreams  
> is freighted with different language, different meanings..."
> 
> \-- XII (Adrienne Rich)

“So you live around here?” The blonde’s lips entranced Eve as she articulated these words (or maybe it was the alcohol slowly pulsating through her veins). She found herself beginning to smile at their implication.

“Yeah, around the block. I moved a few months ago.” Eve’s eyes glazed over.

“Any particular reason or just felt like it?”

"Oh...," she lingered on the thought. “Just felt like it.” A handful of middle-aged men at the bar yelled something in agreement with each other. Eve glanced at them and felt the soft touch of the woman’s fingertips slide up the side of her hand on the table. A shiver of pleasure went through her. Her body began to lean toward the woman and she caught herself with a jolt before going too far. “I -- I should go. It’s getting late and I have to get up early for work and…” _You remind me of her,_ she said only in her mind.

“Of course. Well…” the woman tapped her fingers on the bar table. “Would you like some company on the walk home?” 

* * *

In the 10-minute stroll to her apartment building, Eve's mind had already shuffled through a myriad of excuses for not letting Katie (the woman's name, as she'd finally figured out while sloppily taking her number) into her new abode. Even tipsy as hell, she could picture the mess she'd left before heading out that evening: clothes, both clean and dirty, thrown across every piece of furniture and boxes still covering most of the living and dining areas. For a person who spent as little time at home as possible, Eve somehow always managed to leave it in a state of chaos.

They reached her door and she fumbled for her keys, dropping them in the process. After she picked them up, she held them and looked at them.

"Listen, Katie..." She began.

"I know, it's late. I don't mind being dismissed," Katie replied. "I really did want to make sure you got home safe."

Eve chuckled. _Y_ _ou have no idea what that might entail._  She could smell the blonde's perfume: an earthy scent tinged with a kind of musk. It was making her body lean toward her again, and again she caught herself. Their eyes locked when she glanced up. In that moment, she decided she wasn't going to be alone that night. 

"Could you, um, wait out here a minute? I'll -- I'll just be a sec. Is that alright?" Katie nodded, smiling.

Eve opened and closed her door, acutely aware of the presence of the woman now behind it as she stood in the darkness of her apartment. Attempting to not sound like she was rushing around haphazardly tidying, she rushed around and haphazardly tidied. _Clothes in closet, dishes...uhh...let's put you guys under the sink. Boxes...in the corner you go!_

Dusting off a crowd of crumbs from the bed comforter, she thought she heard the sound of voices whispering fiercely on the other side of the door. She figured it was her neighbor, a young woman who worked at the market down the street, and her neighbor's weird boyfriend. To her perpetual annoyance, they often stumbled in, arguing, about this time. 

She grabbed two clean glasses from a cabinet and the half-downed wine bottle resting by itself in her fridge, taking a quick swig before placing them on the coffee table by the couch. A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding released and she went to let her evening company in. 

"Hello?" Eve's voice echoed throughout the empty building hallway. Her grasp on the handle of the open door tightened. "Katie?" The all-too-familiar feeling of a growing lump in her throat being swallowed and traveling down to the center of her chest came to her. It couldn't be stifled and the feeling radiated outward. She went back inside and searched through her purse for her phone.  _No messages._

With the turn of a lock, she flicked off the lights and laid down on her couch.  _Alone again, naturally._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update has taken so long (literal months, I know) and that it's so short! I'm kind of checking in to see if anyone would be interested in this story continuing. <3


End file.
